Cutting the Cord

by Amanda Bateman

  “She was a cold woman, so it makes it appropriate that it was a damn good cold that got her in the end.”

  “Eddie Norris reckons her death caused our Mary’s husband to grow a pair of balls! I reckon Eddie must be right to have got our Mary to sell up and move,” finished off Harry.

  “Aye!” was all the response that George gave.

  “You know, Dad, you’ve never mentioned how you felt about mum’s death or Mary moving away,” queried Harry. George lifted his head and took a sharp intake of the cold icy night air.

  “Guilty is how I felt about Ethel’s death at first,” George began. “Guilty for feeling nothing when Mary came to tell me. Now? Now I feel nothing. That woman caused nothing but heartache and misery to everyone she ever encountered. The world’s a better place for not having her in it as far as I’m concerned, son. Harsh, I know, but there it is. As for Mary, a bit of sea air and some straight-talking northerners might just be the making of her.”

  “Eddie Norris said, ‘there’ll be one more cunt in Scunthorpe, once she gets there’,” replied Harry. A smile broke out on George’s face.

  “He’s not far wrong there, lad, he’s not far wrong.”

  “I must admit it made me smile too, Dad.”

  “After everything this last year threw at us, son, we could with something to smile about.”

  “I think this year is going to be a good’un, Dad, I really do.” George looked across at his son as they walked along side by side.

  “I’m glad you’ve still managed to stay optimistic, Harry, I really am. After everything that life has thrown at ya over these past few years, you’re still managing to see the best in things.” He patted his son on the back.

  “What’s not to be happy about, Dad? Anne has come home and is expecting a baby. Megan and Dave have got engaged and done wonders with that old rundown cottage. Janie has been offered a book deal and Charlie is building us our own little empire at the garage. And you, Dad, you’ve got a diamond in Rose.”

  “When you put it that way, son, I can’t argue with ya. And, talking of Rose, there’s my turn off to home. She’ll have my slippers warming by the fire and a pan of milk simmering on the stove for our bedtime cocoa. So, I’ll bid you goodnight, son and I’ll pray that you get a happy ending when I go to bed.” George patted Harry once again on the back and turned in the opposite direction to his son, for home.

  “There’s no need to pray for me, Dad,” shouted Harry after him. “I’ve got everything I need for my happy ending. It’s called the FREEDOM TO DO AS I PLEASE.”

  George waved his hand in the air to Harry as he continued on his way. Maybe that was all that Harry needed for now, he thought, but I’m still going to pray for him. If only for God to go easy on him!

  JANIE

  March 1984

  Janie scoured the line of people behind the barrier in the arrivals hall of Faro airport in Portugal. Her eyes swept across the faces searching for a familiar face. Then there it was! Jack Wilde! Only he looked less harassed and gone was his pale pallor, replaced by a sun-kissed golden glow. His hair was almost entirely white. A little longer, a lot less manicured. Gone was the worn overcoat and business-like suit. He was dressed in casual jeans and a polo shirt with a jumper slung over his shoulder. He’d spotted Janie too now and was waving her frantically over to him.

  “Didn’t recognise me at first, did you?” His voice still held those distinctive detective tones.

  “No, no, I didn’t,” admitted Janie, as Jack relieved her of her suitcase. “You look so, so…”

  “Chilled? Relaxed? Unpolicemanly?” he offered.

  “All three,” replied Janie and they both laughed as Jack led the way out of the airport. Jack talked away as they walked.

  “My car’s just over here,” he pointed to a car point just up ahead of them. “It’s roughly a forty-minute drive back to Albufeira. I’ve booked you into the hotel your mum was working at when I found her. It’s a lovely place and you’ve a suite overlooking the main square. You can see my humble abode from your balcony,” he continued.

  “A suite?” cut in Janie.

  “Aaarh! When I booked the room, Juan – that’s the hotel manager; he’s also my weekly chess opponent – realised who I was booking it for and insisted on giving you a suite free of charge.”

  “But why would he do that?” asked Janie.

  “When the news of where I’d found Elsie hit the news, people flocked to the hotel. They wanted to see and stay where the ‘monster’ had worked. They’ve been busy ever since. It kind of put them on the map, so to speak. Now people come here because of its excellent service and nothing more.”

  “They won’t expect anything of me?” Janie asked. Jack just laughed as he loaded the suitcase into the boot of his car.

  “No, Janie, they won’t. It’s just their way of apologising for having employed your mum in the first place. That’s all! The Portuguese people are a very proud race and a very friendly one. I’d not have booked you in there if I thought for one minute you’d be used in anyway. You do trust me, don’t you, Janie?” he begged. Janie smiled across the roof of the car at the ex DCI. Of all the men in the world he was probably one of only a small handful she trusted.

  “Hope the food there is good as I’m starving,” replied Janie.

  “There’s a small fishing village that serves the most amazing seafood dishes, just a short detour away from Albufeira. It’s called Olhos de Agua. How about we stop of there for a bite to eat before we head to the hotel. You can fill me in on the news while we eat looking out to sea. What do you say?”

  “Fabulous,” replied Janie as she climbed into the passenger seat of the car and within minutes they were out on the open roads of Portugal.

  The food had been divine, and Jack had listened whilseJanie had told him all about how emotional the sprinkling of Bea’s ashes out at sea had been. How she’d inherited the cottage and how shocked they’d all been by the wealth Bea had had. She told him about the romance Harry had had with Gwen and its subsequent break up. Of how much the garage had grown and Anne’s return home with another baby on the way. Of George’s marriage to Rose and of Megan’s engagement. She spoke of Charlie’s never-ending parade of girlfriends and lastly, she spoke about the book she’d written at Bea’s request. Then she produced a copy from her bag and handed it over to Jack Wilde.

  “It’s not really your kind of book but I wanted you to have one. It’s not out on the shelves until the third of April, the first anniversary of Bea’s death. The publishers gave me a few copies to hand out to anyone special I chose. I’ve signed it so if it’s the ‘big success’ that they’re predicting, it might be worth a few quid in a few years.” Janie tailed off. Jack took the book from Janie and opened it to the page with the dedication on. It read:

  Thank you, Aunt Bea.

  For giving me the love I was so in need of.

  For the strength to follow my dreams

  And the words on which to do it.

  Give Arthur a hug from me

  Love Janie x

  “What a beautiful thing to write for a truly beautiful woman. When I came that last time to Harry’s and was told of the sad news it made me question the way of the world. It saddened me so to know that someone who had done nothing but love and care about others could be dealt such a cruel hand while vile murderers sat in cosy cells in the best of health. That was the first time I’d cried in years. Any doubts I’d had of walking away from the police force, my country, my life, to come here and start afresh were washed away in that instant. I knew I had to cease that day. I had to find some peace in my life. After all, you don’t know what’s around the corner. The only good thing that ever came out of young Freddy’s untimely death was Bea coming back into your lives. It also meant I got to know one of the most remarkable, resilient families I have ever come across. Freddy’s death didn’t tear
you apart it made you all stronger, somehow. And, from the look of this book, Bea’s death is doing the same. I take my hat off to you all, I really do.” Jack raised his glass of beer and offered up a toast to Bea, to Freddy, to all the Arnolds for them to have a happy future. Janie clinked her glass of wine with his.

  “And we’re eternally grateful that you never gave up on finding Elsie, Jack. Knowing she’s paying the price for what she’s done has helped us all move forwards.” They clinked glasses once more.

  “You know I paint, don’t you Janie?”

  “Umm, so I’ve been told.”

  “I’m no van Gogh or Picasso but I’ve done a watercolour of Bea on the veranda at the cottage. I did a quick sketch from the beach after the memorial service. You’d all left to catch the boat by then. I had planned on popping by before I returned to Portugal but there just didn’t seem to be any right words to say.”

  “It meant a lot to us you come all that way.”

  “Harry rang me a week later to say thanks. We chatted for a while about nothing really. So, I decided to paint a picture. I’ll show you tomorrow after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

  “I’d like that,” replied Janie through a stifled yawn.

  “I’ll go pay the bill, then we’ll be on our way,” Jack spoke as he rose from the table. “I’ll meet you over by the car, okay?” Janie gave him a sleepy nod of her head. It had been a long day and that hotel bed was going to be a very welcome sight.

  ***

  True to his word, Jack gave her a guided tour of his gallery, studio and apartment. Then he produced the most beautiful watercolour painting of Bea and the cottage. It showed the cottage nestled in its tiered garden, with its little path winding down to a gate that opened out onto the golden sand. On the bottom tier was the sun house, its doors wide open and the loungers on its decking. Janie let her eyes follow the path back up through its manicured terraces to the veranda at the back of the cottage. Sitting in a large wicker chair, with a book on her lap, a straw hat on her head, was Bea. It wasn’t a detailed painting of her but just enough so that those who had known her could easily recognise her from the way the hat tilted to the one side, her legs stretched out before her, and the way her dark locks caressed her shoulders. Jack had captured the essence of Bea, of the cottage and its garden. Tears pricked at Janie’s eyes as she gazed in wonder upon it.

  “It’s for you if you want it?” Jack began. “I thought you could hang it in the cottage.” Janie was overcome not only his by talent as an artist but at his generosity.

  “The cottage is undergoing a major renovation now,” she began to explain. “It was both Arthur’s and my vision to turn the whole place upside down. Bea made me promise to do it. Once it’s finished, I want you to come and stay, and bring this amazing painting with you. Then you can hang it on the wall. Bea would like that.” Jack agreed.

  For the next few days, Jack was Janie’s guide. He took her to museums, vineyards, drives along the coastline, marketplaces and a fiesta. All too soon her stay was over, and they were back at the airport, Janie with her suitcase in hand.

  “Thanks, Jack, for everything, not just this visit but everything.”

  “It’s been a pleasure and a welcome distraction. It’s also made me fall in love with this place all over again,” he gestured, holding out his arms towards the sky.

  “You won’t forget to come? Will you?”

  “I’ll be there as soon as you’re ready for me,” he smiled.

  “Jack?” Janie tentatively asked. “How come a man like you never got married?” Jack beamed.

  “Lucky, I guess!” he replied as he headed off to his car. “Just lucky.”

  CHARLIE

  March 1984

  Charlie held up his home-made placard with “MISS J ARNOLD” boldly written on it. He’d jokingly borrowed a chauffeur’s uniform from one of their regular customers at the garage. He knew Janie would appreciate the joke. His arms were starting to ache from holding up the sign for so long. He was beginning to wonder if he’d got the wrong arrival time when Janie emerged from round a corner.

  Her long, red, curly locks fell with a glossy sheen onto her shoulders. Her eyes shone like emeralds and her face had a lovely healthy glow behind all those freckles that the sun had obviously coaxed to the surface. Janie looked the healthiest and happiest he’d seen her look in a long while.

  Charlie watched as a big cheesy grin broke across her face as she’d spotted both the placard and Charlie in his uniform and cap. She hurried across to him, dropping her suitcase on the floor and wrapping him up in a bear hug then planting a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek.

  “You really shouldn’t kiss the staff, ma’am!” teased Charlie. “Whatever will the natives think?” he finished.

  “Oh! Charlie, you’re such a card,” exclaimed Janie, giving him a playful punch on his left bicep.

  “Now, really, ma’am. I must insist also that you don’t resort to violence towards your staff. We’re in a union now, you know?” Janie’s face took on a serious look.

  “Very well, Charles. Point taken. Now collect my suitcase and lead on to the car, I’m absolutely exhausted.” Janie spoke in posh accent and marched off towards the exit. Charlie, smiling to himself, picked up the case and strode off after his sister. It was good to have her back home!

  Once safely inside the car and they had cleared the traffic around the airport, Charlie broke the silence.

  “You look well, sis, did you have a good time?”

  “Hmmm,” replied Janie. “Jack Wilde was the perfect guide. He drove me to some lovely places. Told me where the best places were to eat and shop of course. Oooh! He’s also done this fabulous watercolour of Bea sitting on the veranda of the cottage. He wanted me to bring it back, but I insisted that he brought it himself. He’s agreed to come over towards the end of September.”

  “So, dad getting Jack to look out for you on your first trip aboard wasn’t such a bad idea after all?”

  “No, it wasn’t. I know I acted like a spoilt brat when dad said that if I was going to take myself off alone to Portugal at least I should let Jack Wilde look out for me. I thought he was treating me like a child, but I know now he wasn’t. Knowing that I had a friendly face to meet me turned out to be very reassuring. I got to see and do things I’d not have done otherwise. I had lots of time to myself and Jack took me out to some wonderful places I’d never have dared go on my own.”

  “Not fallen for an older man, have we?” asked Charlie.

  “NO! Don’t be daft. It was kind of like having dad there with me, in an odd sort of way. Sort of like an uncle. Do you get what I mean?” Charlie nodded. “It made me feel safe while I was out there, yet still at the same time not smothered. Am I making any sense?”

  “Yes, I get what you mean. You’re an attractive young lady, sis, and dad wanted to make sure you were safe. Jack being an ex-copper and us having known him for so long seemed the perfect solution. There’s some nasty people out there, sis, and dad just wanted to protect you.”

  Janie smiled at Charlie.

  “So, what’s new in your world, Charlie?” she enquired. Charlie felt a lump rise in his throat. He had a huge secret, bursting to be shared, Janie was his best option but just where should he begin?

  “Janie?” he began. “How do you see me? I mean really see me?” He stole a glance across at Janie before returning his attention back to the road.

  “Do you mean how would I describe you to a stranger, for instance?”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s right.”

  “Well, let me see. You’re a very caring, loving person. Not afraid to show your emotions, unlike most guys. You take pride in your appearance. You’re brilliant to take clothes shopping. You’re a good dancer and you have a wicked sense of humour. Ooh, oh and freakishly neat and tidy for a man.”

  “So, you wouldn’t describe me a
s macho or manly?”

  “I know you would stand up for me, for Megan, for anyone really, but I don’t think of you as a man’s man. You’re not a wimp, Charlie, but you’re not like Freddy was or the twins or even like Josef. It’s like you don’t feel the need to act all manly or macho. I’m not explaining this very well, am I, Charlie?” begged Janie.

  “You’ve described me beautifully, Janie. That’s how I see myself too! Doesn’t that description remind you of anything else though, Janie?” He watched as Janie searched her memory for someone of similar qualities.

  “No, Charlie, it doesn’t. I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean!” replied Janie. Charlie let out a sign. Up ahead there was a lay-by, so Charlie pulled into it and parked up the car. He turned to face Janie, who by now looked bemused.

  “Janie, would you still love me or want to know me if I told you a secret about me?”

  “Of course, I would, Charlie, but you’re beginning to scare me a little now.” Charlie took Janie’s hand in his and gazed deep into her eyes.

  “I’m gay, Janie,” he blurted out. He watched as a smile crossed Janie’s face.

  “Now you’re messing with me, Charlie. I’ve lost count of all the girls you’ve taken out over the years.”

  Charlie frowned.

  “Oh, I like girls, Janie. I like talking to them, being around them, but all the physical side leaves me feeling cold and dirty.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re gay,” responded Janie. “It just means you haven’t found the right girl yet, that’s all, Charlie.”

  Charlie rubbed Janie’s hand in both of his.

  “No, Janie, I haven’t met the right girl, but I have met the right boy!”

  “I don’t understand, Charlie.”

  So, Charlie began to explain.

  “There’s been this guy who’s been coming to the garage for a year or more now. His dad owns a hire car business. He does weddings, anniversaries, that sort of thing. Greg drives for him. That’s who I loaned this uniform off. He brings the motors to the garage to be serviced and we kinda got talking. Seemed we had a lot in common. Then a few months back he came in looking for a new car for himself. Obviously, he came to me and I took him out on a test drive. At one point his hand brushed my thigh as he changed gear and it was like I’d been hit by a bolt of electricity. My leg went all tingly and my heart began to pound away in my chest. Greg pulled over to the side of the road and just turned and looked at me. It was like a eureka moment, sis! The next thing we kissed like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. I – we’ve been seeing each other ever since. I’m in love, Janie. I’m in love with Greg and he loves me and I’m happy and afraid all at the same time. Happy because when I’m with Greg I feel free. Like I’m finally being me, Charlie. Then I think of you, of dad, grandad, Anne, Megan and everyone else and I’m afraid you won’t love me anymore. That you won’t want to know me anymore, that you’ll all turn your backs on me, that you’ll all disown me, and it scares the hell out of me, Janie, it really does.” Charlie realised he’d started crying somewhere along the line. He looked though the tears at Janie. Her hand was still cradled in his. She wasn’t looking at him in disgust or with horror; she was smiling at him.